


Accidents Happen

by k3nj1ph1, shanachie



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: F/M, Garcia should come with a warning label, Too adorable for words
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-30
Updated: 2016-03-30
Packaged: 2018-05-30 05:55:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6411535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/k3nj1ph1/pseuds/k3nj1ph1, https://archiveofourown.org/users/shanachie/pseuds/shanachie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek came home to an accident scene in his own house.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Accidents Happen

**Author's Note:**

> I have to get a certain word count every day but I’ve been struggling to reach it, just having a really difficult time reaching it each day so Irishjeeper called me and said “Let’s do a round robin!” She started it and this is what we came up with. Not beta’ed, just for fun.
> 
>  **Disclaimer:** No one recognizable belongs to me. Not making any money off this.  
>  **Second Disclaimer** Despite being fanfiction, this is MY work and I do not give anyone or any other site permission to republish this story under my name or any other without my authorization.  
> 

Derek Morgan was standing in Penelope Garcia’s kitchen looking at all the blood, and wondering what the hell the, currently raspberry haired, woman had done to get this much blood on the floor, counters, and refrigerator. “Baby girl?” he called. “Please tell me all this blood isn’t yours.”

“Not… all of it,” Penelope admitted as she re-entered the kitchen, a towel held against her arm.

“Then where did it all come from?” He asked.

Penelope blushed, “Well you see, there was this chicken, and a vase, and then I couldn’t find my pen, and the knife…”

Derek tried not to smile at the typical babble from the technical analyst because he was actually worried about her. “Can I see it? Also I thought we discussed you not cooking.”

“I can cook. I just need to not get distracted,” Penelope told him.

He motioned her towards him, reaching for the towel. “So the chicken and the knife I understand. And I even almost understand the pen. But where did the vase come from?”

“Well, the flowers needed a vase, but as I was standing on the counter to get a vase from above the stove my right ankle gave way, and I slipped off the counter, landed on my feet, and a vase fell out of the cabinet, and shattered on the floor.” The tech genius shrugged, like it was completely normally for this to happen, which really, considering Penelope, it was.

Derek just raised an eyebrow, sighing softly as he guided her to a chair and sat her down. “So when the vase shattered it cut your arm?”

“No. The chicken fell off the counter and the knife was still in it.” She tried to get back up, “I need to turn the stove off.”

“Penelope. Sit.”

She glared at him. “I am not a dog, Derek Morgan. Nor am I an invalid.”

“I never said you were.” He crossed the room, checking the stove, and quickly turning the knob to make sure it was off. “So where’s this chicken?” He moved back and reached for the towel again, intending to see if she needed stitches.

“The dog got it?” she suggested.

“Mama, we don’t have a dog.” Derek answered, shaking his head he continued to check out her arm. “I know you’re not a dog, nor are you an invalid. You are however accident prone as well as prone to distractions. So before you bleed to death I would like to look at your arm and see if you need stitches.” He sighed as he looked at her arm.

“Let me guess, I need stitches?” Penelope gave him an exasperated look.

“Unfortunately. So. How about we go get this taken care of and then I’ll take you to dinner?”

“Can’t we go to dinner first?”

“Only if we pick something up and take it with us.” He lifted her arm so he could get a better look at it. “I don’t want you to lose any more blood. I’m going to wrap this up better before we go.”

“I want Thai food,” Penelope informed him as Derek headed for their first aid kit.

“Of course,” he assured her. “Whatever you want. Let me see your arm.” She had curled her arm towards her chest when he walked away and now he coaxed it back towards him. “I’m still not sure how you managed to do this.”

“I’ll get the take out menu. I really want it from that new place around the corner. Like my Thai, JJ said it was really good.” Penelope’s rambling was her way of coping with blood that was her own.

Derek’s patience was only so good with Penelope, and it was already worn thin with the fact that she was injured. “Sit. Still. Penelope. Garcia. Morgan.”

All of the woman’s movements stopped, even her mouth froze in motion, and she just stared at Derek.

“Did you just full name me, Derek Morgan?” If she could have, she would have crossed her arms.

He ignored her question to rifle through the drawer for the menu, glad she’d sat still while he’d wrapped up the cut. “You can call it in while we drive. We’ll swing by and pick it up, then head for the hospital. It’s a good thing we’ve got the next few days off.” He helped her to her feet, keeping a hand on her as she wavered a bit from dizziness. “It’ll give you time to recover a bit.”

“Are you saying I’m being a girl?”

“So you object to me pampering you?” He smiled at her. “I’ll be at your beck and call, baby girl.”

“Well, in that case…”

“That’s what I thought.” Derek pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “Come on, Mama. Let’s get you taken care of.”

 


End file.
